Once the assembly went into session, the excitement quickly subsided from the dull nature of the proceedings. The lavish mid-day meal caused the courtiers to frequently hide a yawn between deliberations on disputes over land or money. Vidyut heard the soft snores of a jaded soul from somewhere behind him but chose to ignore. The recitations of the traveling poets were dry as a bone, so were the jests of the court jesters. The Northern Prince Drishtiman would be more comical, unintentional but comical nonetheless, with his zany antics.

Vidyut’s careless glance fell on Prince Surya again. To Vidyut’s amusement, he had caught Surya off-guard, trying to stifle a yawn with the back of his hand. And again, the prince’s eyes caught his! Vidyut was too slow to avert his gaze and hide his embarrassment, this time. Instead, he settled on a faint courteous smile and, in turn, received a broad and cheerful one from Surya.

“And now,” the royal announcer declared in a sonorous voice, “Great King Shaktidev will felicitate the members of the Northern Tantric Guild for the courage and might they displayed when the Southern bandits attacked the Royal entourage.”

A formal flurry of praise and applause from the audience in the court followed the announcement.

“Tantrics, please step up to the dais.”

Upon invitation, the four youth and the little boy walked up to the stage like a parcel of crows. The King rose on his feet and welcomed tantrics to the platform, giving Vidyut a powerful congratulatory pat on his pointy shoulder.

“What you and your boys displayed cannot be weighed in jewels or gold, Tantric.” The King’s hand rested on Vidyut’s shoulder. “But as a token of the royal family’s gratitude, here are some gifts I want you to accept.”

The king gestured, and some men scurried up to the platform carrying piles of finest black robes embroidered with gold thread brocade. Vidyut knew it was no ordinary material. The robes were weaved from the rare cotton threads whose force whetted the nerves and intensified the energy of the Tantra chants flowing through them.

Full of pride and excitement, Alok started to move to accept the rewards, only to be stopped by his mentor.

“Me and my boys are very grateful, my lord, to be of service to the great Kingdom of Rakhtaprastha and its throne,” Vidyut said calmly, “but, as Tantrics, we have little value for material rewards.”

The king slowly nodded as he regarded the Tantric’s words.

“You speak true to your guild, Tantric. I understand you seek a bargain?” The Kind did not mince his words, but his voice held respect for Vidyut’s boldness.

“Fealty for fealty.” Vidyut did not hesitate. “Consider this vain, my lord, but we hope, in return for our service, we will have your protection and patronage in our time of need.”

A corner of the king’s thick mustache rose. “The loyalty and sense of duty that the Guild has shown to the throne will not be forgotten. I will see to that. But you will be a fool, Vidyut, if you turn down these invaluable offerings.”

Vidyut was surprised to hear the King utter his name. That was more reassuring than any gift. “And a fool I am not, my King,” Vidyut replied as he bowed to the king in respect. His apprentices followed suit and then proceeded to accept the rare gifts from the King.

As the felicitation ceremony wrapped up and the afternoon session drew to an end, visit by an eminent guest was announced. The guest lazily entered the court with his veena laid on his shoulder and sharp audible gasps filled the hall.

“Narayan, Narayan.”

Vidyut had never seen the man but had heard enough about him that the two words uttered in the musical voice were enough to recognize him.

“Great Sage Mahathi!” The king rose from his throne and quickly descended the steps to greet the great sage himself. He was followed by his brother Abhiram, High Minister Janak, and Prince Surya, all bowing to the Great Sage Mahathi, the ambassador of the Heavens. “You have blessed us all with your visit. Please allow me to guide you to your seat, and then we can speak in earnest.”

“Narayan, Narayan,” was all the Sage had to say to express his acceptance.

Once the murmurs died down, and the court grew quiet again, the sage remarked. “Ah, how I miss the glory of the royal courts! Tell me, Shaktidev, how long has that Sun been sitting on the roof of this palace? Do you want to declare war against the Sun God, now?” The Sage broke into an uproarious laughter.

“Not too long ago, my lord.” Shaktidev replied with subtle pride. “And, no, my lord. My courage would abandon me before I have a fleeting thought of offending the great life-giver.”

“Narayan, Narayan. So long as you do not wage war against the gods, King Shaktidev, I will remain a bystander.”

The king chuckled. “So long as the gods have their mercy on our land, Great Sage, I would not dare.”

“And they do, King Shaktidev. It is for this reason that I travel to this land with a message from Great Lord Arya.” The great sage paused for a moment and then continued. “Great Lord Arya has foreseen a catastrophic flood in the Eastern Kingdom of Shivalikaksha. He wishes the rest of the four Kingdoms to act immediately and send men and resources for rescue efforts. If not, the entire kingdom would be submerged with its people within a few weeks.”

A hushed silence fell over the hall as the king and his closest advisors deliberated on the matter. Now and then, the Eastern Kingdom suffered from heavy rainfalls and small floods. But to receive a warning from a Heavenly messenger, circumstances must be grave.

The King spoke at last, “Sage Mahathi, we will fulfill the lord’s wishes. We will gather the necessary men and horses, and they will ride out in two days. Our knight commander, Prince Abhiram, will lead our rescue efforts.”

“Narayan, Narayan.” Great Sage Mahathi sounded somewhat relieved as he touched his forehead with joined hands.

“Regards Great King Shaktidev, may I speak?” A silvery voice floated in from the left of the royal throne. It was Prince Surya. Seeing his father nod, Surya rose and presented himself to the king and the courtiers.

“Father, please allow me to accompany the Knight Commander in this mission.”

King Shaktidev regarded his critically, his right fist closed around his mouth. “Why must I allow you, an untested fighter, to join the mission when Commander Abhiram is already leading the efforts. He is an illustrious soldier and a war hero. What more can you add to commander’s wisdom or knowledge?”

“My Lord, as the prince of the five kingdoms, it is my solemn duty to protect this land and its subjects. I cannot sit and watch them suffer when I can lend them my hand. It will be a test of my ability. I hope to carry out my duty as the prince of this land and bring honor to your reign.” Prince Surya seemed humble but determined. Two weeks ago, Vidyut would have dismissed this as a foolish self-absorbed pursuit of fame and glory. But now, he was not sure.

“My only son, the heir to throne of the five Kingdoms. I would be deemed a stupid old fool, if I allow you to willingly put your head in the lion's mouth,” the King rose and walked up to his son, “but, I would rather be a fool than a coward, my son. You have my permission. Make me proud.” The king clapped his son’s shoulders with both hands before pulling him into a bear hug.

“Narayan, Narayan. I hope to hear more of your heroic tales, valiant prince.” The Great Sage walked up to Prince Surya before giving him his blessings and then, made his way out of the great hall with his stringed instrument balanced in his left arm.

Despite the ominous news of the Eastern Kingdom, the king’s court that day closed with the courtiers offering the prince their blessings for what would be the first real test of his mettle. Another day, Vidyut would have smirked with derision at cheers and applauds for the prince, but not today.